


the memory of what we would become

by angrylizardjacket (ephemeralstar)



Series: this must be just like living in paradise [22]
Category: The Dirt (2019)
Genre: F/M, Family Fluff, Future Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-05
Updated: 2020-12-05
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:14:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27893647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ephemeralstar/pseuds/angrylizardjacket
Summary: High School AU But As Adults. Winter 1997. Charlotte, one year shy of 30, has come back from jet-setting around the world as Rolling Stone’s international correspondent for Christmas, and decides to stop in at Lola and her father Leo’s diner.
Relationships: (Implied) Keanu Reeves/Original Female Character(s), Luke Perry/Original Female Character(s), Nicholas "Razzle" Dingley/Original Female Character(s), Nikki Sixx/Original Female Character(s)
Series: this must be just like living in paradise [22]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1357720
Comments: 1
Kudos: 3





	the memory of what we would become

**Author's Note:**

> WTF this wasn’t meant to be this long. File this under; things that will not make sense since I haven’t published the actual High School AU. so for reference, in the HS AU Lola’s dad doesn’t die, instead he leaves her mother, takes lola to LA, and opens up a diner there. this is set 12 years after the actual HS AU. UNEDITED. THIS IS SO SAPPY IM DYING

The walls of Leo’s had changed colours several times over the years, and the latest was a serene lilac. Charlotte steps in, out of the cold, out of the snow, pulling off her scarf and gloves in the sudden warmth of the heated seating area; it’s a relatively slow day, at least for Leo’s, so it’s still bustling with activity. It had been over a decade since Leo’s had opened, and slowly but surely it had turned into something of a landmark of their little suburb as word of it’s reputation spread along the coast, and then through the nation, with bands like _Motley Crue_ , stars like Keanu Reeves and Peach Perry, mentioning it in interviews, and even a certain _Rolling Stone_ writer bringing it up occasionally in articles. Despite it’s popularity, it had retained it’s heart, clearly, as a teenager greets Charlotte, a kid with too many piercings and no eyebrows, smiling all kinds of bright in a way that most probably wouldn’t expect from such an boy who looked so alternative. 

“Welcome to Leo’s, was it just yourself today, or will others be joining you?” He asks, and Charlotte gives a warm smile at the familiar greeting.

“Just me; do you know if Lola’s in?” She asks, and for a moment, the kid hesitates, and looks over his shoulder. 

“Lola?” He calls, and through the familiar window into the kitchen, Charlotte sees Lola, hair short and eyes bright, look up expectantly. Her _whole face_ lights up at the sight of Charlotte in the entryway.

“Charlie!” She exclaims, and the kid visibly relaxed, nodding to Charlotte, affirming what they both already knew, “Nathan, can you take these burgers to Roan and his sons? Charlie’s an old friend,” Lola calls out to the boy, who zips away, picking up the plates of burgers as Lola put them up to be collected.

“Is that Charlie?” From the back of the kitchen, Charlotte hears Leo call, and after a moment, she also sees his head pop out of the walk-in refrigerator as she approaches the counter. From somewhere further in the refrigerator, out of sight, she hears a faint, child-like, ‘ _Auntie Charlie?’_ followed by Leo disappearing again, though she could still hear him; “yeah, buddy, Auntie Charlie!”

“Hi Leo! Good to see you!” Charlotte calls out, and sits as at the counter as Lola bustles out from the kitchen and around the counter to wrap her friend up in a hug. It’s been months since the girls have seen each other, and to walk into the diner, so familiar and warm, smelling like herbs and spices, to hear the food cooking and the music playing, it felt like coming home.

“Charlie, _look at you_ , you’re so grown up!” Lola holds Charlotte at arm’s length, giving her an approving look over, which she does every time Charlotte comes back to town since they’d both graduated college, like they’re not still the same age, that being almost thirty. Charlotte rolls her eyes with a good natured smirk, brushing off Lola’s smirk as she tucks her gloves and scarf into her purse, “where’d you fly in from this time, _Miss Jet-Setter_?” Lola’s grinning from ear to ear, moving back behind the counter to start on a milkshake for Charlotte without her even needing to ask. 

“Australia,” Charlotte settles into one of the stools by the counter, beaming with pride, “wrote a piece on this rock band, _Silverchair_ , only sixteen, can you believe that?” 

“Tommy was sixteen when Motley first got together,” Lola pointed out, to which Charlotte’s grin turned soft and nostalgic.

“Yeah, but they didn’t make it big for a few years,” she reminded, “but Lola, you and Leo would _love them_ , salt of the Earth kind of boys; actually, you might have heard some of their stuff, they were kind of big here too, _Tomorrow?_ Their album’s called _Frogstomp_.”

“Dad,” Lola calls over her shoulder, “have we played any _Silverchair_? _Frogstomp?_ Song called _Tomorrow_?” After a moment, Leo emerges from the freezer with a small, dark-haired child balanced on his hip.

“I think I’ve heard of them, maybe on the radio? Should be play them; what do you think, Charlie, you’re the expert here?” And his smile is so bright, so familiar, that it hits Charlotte square in the chest; he’s still so tall, broad, and intimidating, but his smile offsets it all, kind and gentle, and when she sees he’s wearing a _Motley Crue_ t-shirt -

“Hi, Auntie Charlie!” The kid on his hip, who looks to be about five years old, is waving broadly to her, beaming.

“Fuckin’ love _Silverchair_ ,” says a girl with bright green hair from where she was watching burger patties cook on the grill, not even turning around, hip cocked and spatula in hand.

“They are _very_ good,” Charlotte agrees with the girl, before waving back to the kid, grinning just as broadly, “hi Mal!” Much to the kid’s delight. 

Both Lola and Leo grin, talking about how they’d have to look into the band. Leo takes a moment to look over the various people in his kitchen cooking and preparing meals, more than Charlotte thinks she’s ever seen, but it makes sense seeing as how the demand has risen. But then he’s joining Lola by the counter, putting the child down and stepping around to wrap Charlotte up in a hug.

“Sorry if I’m a bit frosty, Mal and I were putting away the produce, weren’t we buddy?” Stepping back, he grins at the child, who’s standing by the counter wearing a blinding, and also familiar smile, stepping up onto a stool that made him the perfect height to serve if he so chose.

“Tutu Leo says he’s gonna teach me the special spice mix for the patties soon,” the child, Mal, delights, and Lola puts Charlotte’s milkshake down, and ruffles the kid’s hair. 

Maleko Jr already looks like his namesake, and like his mother, but Charlotte would know Nikki’s green eyes anywhere, and there’s something about the bassist in the kid’s smile too, that has Charlotte’s heart warming at the sight. 

“Momma, can I have a milkshake too? A chocolate one?” The kid turns to Lola, wide-eyed and hopeful, and Lola gives a fond grin.

“I think so; it’s a special occasion, Auntie Charlie’s back. Do you want me to make it for you or -?” but before Lola can even suggest, Mal hops down from his stool and strides over to the milkshake equipment, claiming that he could do it himself, radiating pride. 

“Mal’s really starting to help out around here,” Lola says with pride of her own, her smile turning so adoring as she watches her son, “Since school’s on break, I told him he’s more than welcome to play with his friends or watch TV, but _no_ , he just wants to listen to _Motley_ records and help out Tutu Leo.”

“ _Lola your kid is a delight_ ,” Charlotte all but wheezed, watching Mal focus intently as he tries to applying a chocolate sauce drizzle to the inside of his cup, the way they did when they made milkshakes here. Charlotte raises her voice just a little, “Mal, last time I was here, you were just handing out napkins, look at you now!”

“I was four then, Auntie Charlie,” Mal says with surprising seriousness as he puts his cup on the bench, and then drags his stool from the counter to the milkshake area, pulling the milk out of the fridge below the counter and climbing atop his stool, “I’m five now, I’m almost an adult.” He says it so matter-of-factly, in a tone that sounds _so much_ like Nikki, that Charlotte has to stop herself from laughing, and from the endeared look on both Leo and Lola’s faces, this was the sort of thing he said often.

“He thinks once you turn ten you become an adult,” Lola whispers to Charlotte as clarification, and it does little to stop the endearment from blossoming in her chest. 

Around them, the staff still works, still moves and cooks and prepares, a well oiled machine, competent thanks to Leo and Lola’s tutelage, able to work well while giving Leo, Lola, and Mal, time with Charlotte. 

“How’s Razzle?” Leo asked amicably, changing the subject. Before Charlotte can answer, he quickly asks if she’d like anything from the pastry display, and Charlotte accepts a strawberry tart with thanks.

“He’s good, he’s at my parents’ house, sleeping off his jetlag; he spent the last week with me in Australia, so it’s been kind of a whirlwind for him,” she says with a gentle fondness. In the years since that fateful Junior year, so much had happened to all of them, and the development Razzle and Charlotte’s relationship was some of the most surprising. 

During their last year of high school, communication with Razzle was mostly via phone calls and letters, and despite trying their hand at long-distance, after a year, with his band’s growing success, and Charlotte’s growing academic demands as she finished school and started looking at colleges, they both decided that it wasn’t the right time.

After graduating, Charlotte managed to get a scholarship to study Journalism in New York, giving her room to breath, to think, to reinvent herself away from her family and all the pressure and drama that came with her. It had been hard at first, especially being so far from her friends and her cousin, but at least she had Eileen, the two of them sharing a shoebox apartment in the city, studying side by side. 

So Charlotte had her fair share of flings and hookups through her first year of college, boyfriends and one night stands and things that were sort of in the middle, still talking often with Razzle as friends, but nothing ever seemed to stick. In her second year of college, when presented with the opportunity to study abroad, she took it, heading to the UK with an ulterior motive. 

They’d needed the time apart, to grow as people and as friends, but the moment Charlotte steps off the plane, and Razzle’s waiting with her name on a sign, a bunch of flowers, and a bright smile, Charlotte knew she was still absolutely gone for him.

They’d been more or less together for the better part of a decade, with Charlotte often joining Hanoi’s tours, or Razzle following Charlotte to wherever _Rolling Stone_ had sent her since she’d become their foreign correspondent in 1994. Both were now well versed in being understanding, with such hectic and conflicting schedules, but when they’re together, Charlotte can’t help but feel seventeen again, falling in love with him all over again, and she knows he feels the same. 

“Australia, that’s on my bucket list,” Leo mused from where he had been wrapping napkins around knives and forks, and putting them neatly in a basket.

“Oh, you’d love it,” Charlotte enthuses, “if you ever want to expand your business, I think it’d be a hit down under.”

“It becomes a chain, but only with a store here, and one in Australia,” Leo snorts a laugh at the idea, though it’s amused rather than derisive, before he brushes the thought aside, “nah, I think with the diner as big as it is, and being in talks with the pub, that’s all I want.” He says with a fond grin, though that second part was news to Charlotte.

“The Kings’?” Charlotte says with interest, looking over her shoulder at the now rather tired-looking pub across the road. 

“The owners are looking at selling it,” Lola says tentatively, looking to her father who wore a small smile, giving a nod of confirmation, “since we started started selling merchandise, we’ve been pulling a little bit more of a profit than usual, which, you know, that’s not what’s important, but I was kind of interested in buying the pub.”

“ _Oh shit_ ,” Charlotte muttered, “you’re talking about _me_ being all grown up, Lo, you guys are buying a pub?”

Behind Lola, Mal had thoroughly mixed his milkshake, and took the cup off of the mixer, putting a bright, paper straw into it and carrying it around the counter to sit himself next to Charlotte as they all spoke. 

“It’s not finalized yet, but hopefully in the new year some time.” She sounds _so fucking proud_ , and for a moment, Charlotte barely recognizes her from the girl she’d met twelve years ago, the standoffish, closed off, new kid at school. It was strange, knowing that the girl she’d first met reading a porno mag in the beer garden across the road, had a Masters in Business Administration, and was successfully running the business side of her family’s restaurant. Without sacrificing the quality, cheap price, or _heart_ of Leo’s, Lola had taken over the the successful business, and helped it to _thrive_. 

“That’s so exciting!” Charlotte’s eyes shone brightly as she leaned on the counter, beaming at her old friend, “and how’s Nikki; I heard Motley’s last tour went well, is he back yet?” 

“He’s actually due back from the studio any minute,” Lola grins, “I wish I would have known you were coming, he could have brought the band.”

“It’s no worry, I mean we’re all coming for lunch on Saturday, right? After Eileen and Keanu fly in -?”

Mal made a noise of protest as Leo bent all the way over the counter and angled to take a sip of his milkshake.

“Sorry Mal, usually they’re a hundred, million dollars, but I will settle for one sip,” Leo told him, and Mal clicked his tongue, shaking his head in a way that looked so much like Lola.

“They’re four dollars, Tutu, it says on the menu, but you can have a sip because I love you,” he said, with an uncompromising sincerity as he angled the cup and straw to his grandfather. Leo’s expression melted to adoration, thanking the boy as he took a small sip, while both Lola and Charlotte looked on in awe as they watched the exchange. 

“How did me and your dad ever make something half as sweet as you?” Lola cooed, and Mal gave her a toothy grin in response, before joyfully slurping down his milkshake. As if on cue, the door to the diner opened, and Nikki Sixx himself stepped in, shivering from the cold.

“Hey Nikki,” Nathan, the boy by the door, says with an easy familiarity, not even bothering to ask if he wanted a table, and Nikki greeted him kindly in turn, while greetings from other nearby staff were also offered to the newcomer. Leo offered a wave and a greeting, but his name was called from the kitchen and he followed the call quickly.

“Dad!” Mal yelled at the top of his little lungs, jumping from his stool and leaving his milkshake forgotten, to practically tackle the bassist who had just arrived. Nikki picks him up with ease, swinging him around before wrapping him up in a hug, making his way to the counter where Lola had taken a sip of her son’s milkshake, and Charlotte had watched the encounter with delight. 

“Charlie Lee-Dingley,” Nikki smiled warmly at her, carrying his son over, who was hugging his father tightly, face hidden in the mess of Nikki’s black hair, “it’s good to see you, how long ago did you get in?”

“Like three hours ago,” Charlie laughed, honest, and his eyebrows rose as he moved behind the counter to press a kiss to Lola’s temple in greeting. Mal, in his arms, surfaces only to take his milkshake out of his mother’s hands, content enough to just be quiet and drink, tucked up against his father. Like this, they make a strangely picture-perfect family, and Charlotte’s heart warms at the sight. “Razzle’s sleeping off his jetlag at my parents’ place; how’s the new album coming along?”

“Apart from Vince walking out on us like a -” he hesitates for a moment, gaze flicking to his young son, “- _dweeb_ ,” he settles on, “we’re great, actually our new singer, John, he’s fantastic.”

“So Vince is really out for good?” Charlotte asks, and has to hold herself back from pulling out a notebook, journalistic instincts kicking in at the hint of a scoop in her field. But these are her friends, so she restrains herself.

“He’s being -” again he hesitates, which Charlotte finds strange considering Lola swearing with seemingly no consideration for her son earlier, “ _not nice_ , and his priorities weren’t with the band; it was for the best.” He concedes, and then puts Mal down when the kid starts wriggling, following after Leo into the kitchen.

“I’m so sorry, am I allowed to swear in front of him?” Charlotte asks, lowering her voice, and both Nikki and Lola grinned.

“Yeah, of course, we want Mal to know that swearing’s just words, so we’re okay with it, but we just try and keep from using language _about other people_ that’s too harsh around him, like Vince is still a good Uncle to the kid, we don’t want him to think negatively about his family just ‘cos of business stuff, you know,” Nikki explains, and _oh what the fuck, when did they become so reasonable_. 

“Of course,” Charlotte nods in understanding, before asking, “so is Vince coming to lunch on Saturday or...?”

“Between the band stuff and _People Magazine_ telling the whole world that Peach is expecting a kid with that _90210_ actor she left him for? Probably not,” Lola snickered, “but he gave me a call the other day and said he’s going to stop in and give Mal his Christmas gift while the band is at the studio some time next week.”

“ _He’s so fucking petty_ ,” Nikki hissed, rolling his eyes. Lola wrapped an arm around him, pulling him into a side-hug as a show of support, still so short next to him, like she had been ever since the end of high school. She bounces up on her toes and kisses Nikki’s cheek where he’s scowling.

“It’s cute that he got Mal a gift,” Charlotte points out, which Nikki begrudgingly agrees. Despite the fact that neither Lola nor her father celebrated Christmas, Nikki was raised to, and so were most of the kid’s not-technically-related family, like the Lees, the Austens, and the Neils, and Lola was more than happy to participate, in part, for the people she loved. 

Lola and Leo did a lot for the people they loved, in their own way, and the diner was a testament to that. There were photos and articles all over the walls, posters, magazine covers, CDs on shelves, all of the bands, the people, the places, or the things they loved. There’s a wall that’s just covered in polaroids of everyone who’s ever worked here, photos of people who have become friends of Leo and Lola’s, the covers of Leo’s favorite albums spanning back through the decades, articles with glowing reviews of the diner, and three photos of Lola from her three different graduations; high school, her Bachelor’s, and her Master’s.

The first Summer Charlotte had returned after being hired by _Rolling Stone_ , she’d come to see her first article up on the wall of Leo’s, right beside the photo he’d taken of them all from after their Junior prom, when they’d all come back to _Leo’s_ to celebrate the night, and themselves; all of Motley Crue, Charlotte with Razzle, Lola, Peach, Eileen, even Keanu was there, beaming with his arm around Eileen’s shoulders. Now, when she looks to that photo, she not only sees her first article beside it, but she sees the one she wrote on Motley Crue, which she’d had them include in the actual printed article, a scanned image of the badge Lola had hand made for her at 17, black construction paper cut into a star that said ‘ _Punched Nikki Sixx’_ in silver pen. There’s reviews for the movies that Keanu’s been in, TV shows Peach has been a part of, a New York Times article about a big case Eileen had won, and her business card, as well as the CD booklet that had come with the first _Hanoi Rocks_ album, and a signed _Motley Crue_ poster above it all. It was close to a shrine, a dedication to the people who mattered to Leo and Lola, a reminder that no matter how far they all went, they could still call the diner home. 

Charlotte doesn’t look at it for too long, or else she knows she’ll start crying.

By the time Charlotte looks away from the wall, Nikki’s moved into the kitchen, put his hair up like she remembers him doing so many times before, back when he’d worked here in high school, and he’s chattering away to Leo about how the album’s coming along as they’re preparing dishes. Lola’s serving someone at the counter, and Mal’s standing beside her on his stool, diligently counting the money the customer’s given before handing it over to his mother to cash. 

Charlotte recognizes it when _Home Sweet Home_ starts playing around the same time Mal seems to, his whole little face lighting up, and he looks like he wants to call out to Nikki, but when he sees his father focused and working away in the kitchen, he stays quiet. But he sees Charlotte, and he trots over to her, bringing his stool, and standing across from her. 

“Do you know this song?” He asks, seriously.

“Of course I do! My cousin and your dad wrote it!” She grinned, and Mal nodded, beaming, “you know, they started writing this when they visited me with your mom, because I was living very far away.” She tells him, “and I couldn’t come home, and it was pretty sad for all of us.”

“Why couldn’t you come home?” Mal asked, his little face all concerned.

“Because I was at school, and it was very important to me.”

“But you came back,” Mal frowned a moment, looking to his mother, and then over his shoulder at his father and grandfather, “because they came back, you didn’t all stay there.” It’s not a question; obviously Charlotte was _here_ , he was just trying to wrap his mind around it.

“Yes, I came home; I always come home.”

“To _Leo’s,”_ like it’s the only real answer, which, to him, who lived above the diner, it was. But as Charlotte considered, she let herself smile, let herself agree.

“Home to _Leo’s_.”


End file.
